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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068167">One and the Same</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emwing_ness/pseuds/Emwing_ness'>Emwing_ness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Academia, Acts of Kindness, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys in Skirts, Cute, Dark Academia, Fluff, Friendship, Healing, Language Barrier, Light Angst, Magical Realism, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Park Jisung &amp; Zhong Chen Le Are Best Friends, Platonic Soulmates, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Body, Sharing a Room, Sick Character, Sickfic, Slow Burn, Spirit World, Spirits, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, it's really just, some relationships can be romantic if you want</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:07:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emwing_ness/pseuds/Emwing_ness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You came,” the voice whispers, gleeful and jubilant, a twinkle of starlight, the chime of bells in the afternoon breeze.</p><p>From beyond the edge, another hand grasps his own. As their fingers slot together, Jisung feels a deep burden in his chest lift, and it floats away like falling flowers in the wind. This is the last piece of the puzzle, the last line of the poem, the ripple after skipping stones; this is wholeness.</p><p>------------</p><p>A group of boys teach each other that tomorrow is always less painful than yesterday.</p><p>(And Jisung learns that he is worthy of love)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno/Mark Lee/Na Jaemin/Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, OT7-Friendship, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Fugue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow it's here! </p><p>I actually have been writing a lot since my last fic, but I always kind of scrapped the works because I didn't think they were ready - I still don't feel ready, by the way! But I think I should just go for it.</p><p>That being said, this work is something I've worked on for a long time with very little progress. Now that I'm posting it here, I think I'll update fairly frequently. </p><p>BTW It's going to be quite a bit darker than my last fic, since my first one had...like, literally zero angst....lol,,,, but still, this one is more about the healing than the hurt, so if you like that I think you might enjoy this! I hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>From his seat beside the window, Jisung peers at the outside world. Students stroll casually by, past the pavement Jisung can see from his perch, far enough that they look like ants. </p><p> </p><p>Some people wear their uniforms neatly, cutting sharp figures across campus. Each button buttoned, creases ironed out the night before, cuffs tightly folded. Some leave their shirts open, tiny chest hairs in full view, ties loosened. Each person wears a badge with <em>Neo</em> emblazoned across. It looks lively, pleasant. Jisung rips his eyes away. The sun from the window was heating up his face uncomfortably. He turns the other direction. </p><p> </p><p>The lazy stall of midafternoon has taken hold over Neo Academy, and the buzz of excited students has quieted since this morning. Jisung picks at his nails and counts each tick from the clock hung behind him. He doesn’t want to be here right now. </p><p> </p><p>“And your dreams,” Mr. Qian probes, “how are they?”</p><p> </p><p>He never <em>wants</em> to be here, sitting across from Mr. Qian in this tiny chair that squeaks every time he breathes. Mr. Qian watches him attentively, kindly. It makes Jisung squirm, which of course, makes the chair squeak again. A streak of sunlight cuts across the room, dust motes suddenly visible. </p><p> </p><p>“They’ve been okay,” Jisung offers, “I guess.” His skin prickles uncomfortably. He thinks he can feel the dust on his skin now that he sees it, tingles shooting up his arms. </p><p> </p><p>Mr. Qian’s paper crinkles in the thick silence that follows as he scribbles down some sort of note, expression unchanging. Still kind, polite, welcoming. </p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t we end with that today? I’ll see you next week, same time.” </p><p> </p><p>It’s a kindness Mr. Qian is giving to Jisung. They both know what it means when Jisung can’t sit still, picking at his nails as his eye bags mark deep indents in his face; his sleep has been pretty horrible. </p><p> </p><p>When Jisung blinks, the back of his eyelids grab hold of him, sharp claws sinking into his body. Flashes of his nightmare from last night are relived, over and over again. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dark, shadowy figures slide across a bleak, violet sky. His feet are planted in the gritty loam, roots deep in the earth. He can’t move. The shadows circle around him, getting closer- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The counselor neatly piles his notes onto his desk and scoots his chair out, standing up. When he rolls up his sleeves to his forearms, he reveals thick ropes of ink black wrapping around his hands and arms. The mark of a spirit handler is unique to each person, but Mr. Qian’s looks like a snake coiled about his arms, fangs outstretches in menacing patterns over thick bunches of muscle. Jisung tries not to stare and politely dismisses himself. </p><p> </p><p>“Jisung!”</p><p> </p><p>When he opens the door, a flash of pink flits past his eye and he’s swallowed in a bear hug that smells like peaches and...basil?</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, hyung-”, Jisung wheezes as his lungs compress, “too tight!” His arms flail up and down, but Jaemin hangs on stubbornly.  </p><p> </p><p>When Jaemin finally lets go, Jisung’s wide eyes take in a vision of pink and green. Jaemin’s uniform looks incredibly disheveled, wrinkled and torn in multiple places. Moreover, his pink hair is dotted with leaves, that upon further sniffing, proves to be literal leaves of basil. </p><p> </p><p>“Haven’t seen you all day!”</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin slings an arm across Jisung’s shoulders. The weight is nice, but it causes the pair to stumble a little as they walk out of the building. The shadows loosen their grip on Jisung, but they lurk in the back of his mind. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s up with the basil though?”</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin’s face pales, before splotchy red takes over his cheeks and ears. A hand reaches up to touch his hair, and comes away with the offending leaves. </p><p> </p><p>“You mean I’ve had these on my head the <em> whole </em>way here?” Jaemin groans, collapsing in on himself. His body turns willowy and starts folding in on itself, though his long legs continue to take loping steps, feet not even touch the ground. Jaemin’s habit of contortion means his uniform is chronically wrinkled. </p><p> </p><p>Jisung snorts and unfolds the spirit to roughly human sized proportions, pushing down on his shoulders so his feet meet the ground. </p><p> </p><p>Jaemin shuffles the whole way home, grumbling about Donghyuck and basil. </p>
<hr/><p>The dorm, like always, is a mess when they open the door. </p><p> </p><p>Renjun and Donghyuck appear to be locked in a screaming match, but looking closer, are battling it out through mid-day karaoke. Mark is sleeping through everything, slumped over on the couch. Jeno is nowhere to be seen, though his shoes are neatly placed by the door.</p><p> </p><p>Jisung places his own shoes by the door and Jaemin mimics his actions. The spirit needs some help with the laces, but manages to do the rest by himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Shoes are a drag, Jisung,” Jaemin drawls, slinking into his room, “absolutely cruel and unusual punishment.” But of course, a spirit who doesn’t need feet to walk would think shoes are unnecessary. </p><p> </p><p>Jisung throws his backpack by the couch, where Donghyuck and Renjun also threw their bags. Mark’s still wearing his bag, looking ready to spring up and rush off to whatever class or club or internship he’s got next, even in his sleep. Gently shoving Mark’s legs to the side, Jisung makes a space for himself on the couch.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Donghyuck shouts, ears blown from karaoke, “when’d you get home?”</p><p> </p><p>Renjun blinks and turns his head to look at Jisung as well.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hey Jisung.”</p><p> </p><p>He's been sitting here doing homework for a few minutes already, but something about his irregular spiritual patter makes it harder to sense his presence, especially since he's not normally so loud anyway. Jisung feels the looks that Renjun and Donghyuck send him particularly sharply, watching as their faces distort in anger and displeasure, and involuntarily, his body freezes in place. Did he interrupt them? His shoulders twitch, about to curl in around his body, trying to make him look as small as possible, as small as he feels. Then, he blinks, and the illusion is gone. They're grinning, happy to see him. Jisung breathes in and out through his nose, grinning back just in time, just before the pause would have been too long, a cause for concern.</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin flies through the wall, freshly changed out of his uniform. He tackles Donghyuck and they wrestle for a few minutes about basil and something or other before collapsing into a two person cuddle pile. </p><p> </p><p>Renjun sheds his human appearance and turns into a shadowy figure. Slowly, the dark cloud that is Renjun floats over to Jisung and sits on his head like a hat. A clicking noise emits from Renjun, which Jisung would guess means something similar to <em> hi, thanks for the seat </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Jisung pats Renjun twice before going back to studying. Spirits have a sort of texture to them that’s hard to describe; something like touching a pillow, maybe, but your hand comes away with a cold film over it. Renjun starts sinking tendrils of inky energy into Jisung’s scalp and through his head, tightly intertwining their energy. The spirit undergoes the process of smoothing out Jisung's energy veins and untangling any knots. It feels a bit like dipping your head in cold water, but your brain gets waterlogged too. Jisung kind of likes the feeling.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>Six Years Ago</em>
</p><p>The worst part of a short life expectancy is probably having to spend so much of the time he has left at the hospital. The doctors and nurses grin when they see him, bright and warm, eyes just a little blank. They don't need to tell him where to go - at eleven years old, Jisung has been to the hospital more than his parents ever had. His dad squeezes his shoulder and takes a seat in the waiting room, watching as Jisung pads over to the third door down and disappears into the hallway. The sign hanging outside is new and embossed, <em>Spiritual Therapy </em>written in large, bulky print and a caricature of a spirit grinning invitingly takes up the bottom left corner. </p><p> </p><p>Jisung walks himself down the hall, greets each nurse by name, and enters through the last door. Mr. Qian grins as he walks in, a genuine smile. Jisung likes that Mr. Qian's energy is so uniform; everyone, from his school teachers to friends to even his own parents, are surrounded by a mass of spiritual energy. Some people, mostly children, walk around with pure yellows, pinks, and opalescent energies swirling about. His parents are often hues of the sunset, rich and warm, until they look at him and their sadness tints their energy the color of a rainstorm. </p><p> </p><p>Mr. Qian, on the other hand, is almost always blank white. When he's smiling, the edges grow just a little yellow. When he's upset, his energy grows just a bit dull. As a spirit handler, a strong understanding and control of one's own spiritual energy is mandatory, Mr. Qian had said when Jisung asked the first time they met, which was really just last week. Mr. Qian then revealed that most people can't see the color of others' energy; usually, people have to train a long time for that, but since Jisung's energy is so erratic, it must've given him this ability. Jisung thinks that it might be better to <em>not be literally dying</em> than to be able to see some colors, but it is what it is. </p><p> </p><p>Until Jisung had met Mr. Qian, the doctors assumed he was just a sickly child that would die before twenty. They were certainly correct, but Mr. Qian seems to know how to extend his life span indefinitely, if all goes well. Jisung's parents had cried when they heard the news, energy bursting with the brightest colors they'd ever had, flooding the room in neons. That day, Jisung decided to give his all with this therapy - it's his last shot, and honestly, while Jisung was planning on turning down this therapy, his parents don't deserve to have to outlive him. </p><p> </p><p> "Hey," greets Mr. Qian, "how's it going?" Jisung blinks, thinking it over. Is this person really qualified for the job? Jisung just had tubes sticking out of him last week, getting transfusion after transfusion, arm full of needle holes and his dark circles are darker than they've ever been. The eleven year old can't hold back the look in his eyes that says something like, <em>are you serious?</em></p><p> </p><p>"Good," Jisung mutters, regardless. Mr. Qian laughs, for some reason, energy just a bit yellow. Jisung eyes the door behind him. It's not too late to run out and go home. </p><p> </p><p>"Now, before you make a run for it," Mr. Qian hurriedly says, "let's have our first session!" Jisung blushes, deeply embarrassed that he was so transparent; his mom would have called that kind of behavior rude, but Mr. Qian just hands him a lollipop before helping him circulate his energy, pale energy mixing with Jisung's pallid green.</p><p> </p><p>"Hmm," Mr. Qian hums with furrowed brows, "that's not quite right." Well, not much is right with Jisung's body. So, sounds pretty spot on. </p><p> </p><p>After about thirty minutes of prodding into his energy veins and random questions, Mr. Qian walks him back to his dad and props his hands on his hips the way one does when they feel very proud of an accomplishment. </p><p> </p><p>"Well, first of all, I know what's going on and why," he pauses so Jisung's dad can recover from his shock, "do you want to know now, or wait for your wife?"</p><p> </p><p>His dad thinks for less than a minute before they're walking back to Mr. Qian's office. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>Back to Present</em>
</p><p>Jisung doesn’t <em> need </em> it, but it really helps when his spirit roommates untangle his energy veins. With constant supervision from Mr. Qian and continued therapy, Jisung has not only maintained his energy, but improved it. Even so, it can’t hide the fact that he was born with a weak body. </p><p> </p><p>Because of this, though he now has a normal amount of energy to go around, his energy veins are prone to tangling and getting torn from overexertion. By Renjun or Jaemin sinking little tendrils of energy into his chest and plucking his veins like a guitar, he can thankfully avoid most of the damage. They’re pretty good at making sure he doesn’t go too long with tangled veins. </p><p> </p><p>Renjun sitting on his head is comforting enough that Jisung almost drowses off into his textbook, but this is only his second year at the academy and he can’t already become like Mark, who’s still snoring beside him. </p><p> </p><p>Renjun hums and purrs. Jisung guesses he’d said something like <em> all done! </em> </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks hyung.”</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin, seeing Renjun back in his natural state, can’t hold back anymore and dissolves into an inky black mist as well, still wrapped around Donghyuck, who calmly continues to scroll through his phone. Jisung knows from experience that it feels like lying in a waterbed, but the bed wraps around you like a burrito.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m ordering dinner,” Donghyuck calls out, loud enough that Jeno finally leaves his room for a break from gaming. </p><p> </p><p>When Jisung first arrived at the dorm last year, he’d been intimidated by Donghyuck and Mark, scared by Renjun and Jaemin (who, newly summoned, couldn’t maintain a human form, but rather constantly morphed into various shapes), and downright terrified by Jeno. </p><p> </p><p>Jeno was an incredibly buff, older teen who didn’t say much and hardly grinned. Instead, he glared at Jisung from under thick brows, leaving the room whenever Jisung entered. Later, Jisung found out Jeno was actually just shy and couldn’t approach Jisung, though it still wasn't easy to make friends with Jeno, since Jisung was honestly just as shy. They didn't really get close until Jaemin told Jisung that Jeno desperately wanted to be friends, but had no idea how to start a conversation; he said this, of course, with Jeno present. </p><p> </p><p>Renjun detaches from Jisung to scuttle over to Jeno, who picks up the dark blob like a cat, cradling the fidgeting spirit and cooing. Renjun lets out a few grating clicks and a titter of maybe-laughter comes from the cloud surrounding Donghyuck, who snorts.</p><p> </p><p>“What,” Jeno demands, looking defensive, “why’re you guys laughing?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> youuu only....come out...hssssss….for fooooood…..hhghhghh </em> ... <em> like dog.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Renjun managed to explain that much while in spirit form, which was incredibly impressive considering he didn’t have a mouth or even a face in that form. Jeno blushes but can’t deny the accusation. </p><p> </p><p>“Whatever, see if I give you a ride to class next time.” </p><p> </p><p>Renjun immediately takes the form of a...cat? The spirit hasn’t seen that many cats in person before so his cat shape looks a bit <em> wrong </em> and distorted in ways Jisung can’t even put his finger on. He looks like a stuffed animal. Jeno relents regardless, infinitely weak to cats, pretty boys, and Renjun; this attack checks all three boxes.</p><p> </p><p>Donghyuck orders pizza and the smell of it finally wakes Mark, who blearily scarfs down three slices before being carried (literally) to his bed in a combined effort to get him some sleep.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>Nighttime</em>
</p><p>Jisung takes his assorted medicines before clambering into bed, tired after an okay day that lasted for forever. Mark went to bed earlier and Jisung’s other roommates recently went to bed as well, though the light from the crack of Jeno’s door indicates another long night of gaming. </p><p> </p><p>Sometimes Jisung joins him, when the nightmares are better and his energy veins are pumping smoothly. Othertimes, the dreams don’t go so well. </p><p> </p><p>Jisung tucks himself in, hums a lullabye and closes his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He opens his eyes to violet skies. Tonight, his feet are free to walk, though there’s no reason to. Everything looks the same, no matter which direction he turns. The spirits swirl around in circles, calmly floating by.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Sometimes, they’re aggravated for reasons Jisung doesn’t know, and he has to spend his night evading potentially violent ones. Sometimes, they’re just like any other spirit Jisung would see in the waking world. But always, there are recurring characters in his dreams.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He’s gotten to know the spirits well over the past nine or so years of seeing them every night. One looms incredibly tall over the barren earth, thin and lanky, taking broad steps across the land. Another is a tiny ball of energy that crosses distances with unbelievable speed. One, that takes a slug-like shape, dislikes Jisung horribly, slithering away as soon as it sees him, though this spirit cannot move fast. Jisung kindly moves away for the spirit’s sake. Most of them, though, are nice enough.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Jisung sits down next to a familiar spirit that likes to curl around his shoulders like a shawl and hiss. It’s a bit sad to say, but this spirit was probably Jisung’s only friend for a very long time, in the period when his condition was really bad but he hadn’t met Mr. Qian yet.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Either way, Jisung hasn’t seen his friend in over a week, and it’s been hard to sleep, since other spirits like to push him around when this one’s gone.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tonight, the spirit wraps around him like a blanket and gurgles.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Hi,” Jisung responds, petting the spirit like he would a dog.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> His spirit friend wiggles around like always, but something is new. Today, his friend falls off and thrashes on the ground. Jisung watches as his concern grows - spirits are pretty eccentric but this one looks like it’s in pain.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Jisung tentatively reaches a hand out, unsure if touching it would even help, unsure if leaving it alone was better.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “What- what’s wrong?” His friend stretches and compresses rapidly, and shrieks a little bit before finally, the spirit rests. Jisung gasps, falls forward on his knees in awe.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> His friend...is taking on a human shape-but Jisung can’t see his friend clearly, the spirit’s head is down. Slowly, the spirit lifts its head and Jisung can almost- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Almost see. He wakes up in his bed in the waking world, hand outstretched towards the ceiling. What in the world was <em> that </em>?</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>2002</em>
</p><p>Jisung's parents love their child, would do anything for him. It's why it hurts so much to know there's nothing they can do besides cherish him for the time they have left. </p><p> </p><p>In the cradle, his eyes twinkle like stars and he grips onto their fingers when they reach towards him. It's only going to get worse, the doctors had told them. They don't know what's wrong with him, but whatever it is will slowly sneak up behind him and snatch him away, leaving behind an empty husk. But they have him now, and it's the least they can do to at least give him a happy childhood.</p><p> </p><p>Jisung's mom wakes up in the early morning to the sound of laughter. She holds back her sobs, and stumbles out of bed, rushing to the nursery without putting on slippers. When she sees Jisung, so lively and vibrant, giggling to himself, she can't help but feel her heart breaking within her chest. On the outside, she grins widely and tickles Jisung, picking him up and swinging him around. Over her shoulder, he stares into the distance, seeing something she can't, tiny fingers reaching towards an invisible friend. </p><p> </p><p>She doesn't notice. No one notices, and they never do. After a few years, little Jisung no longer has these weird, inexplicable visions, because instead, he dreams. </p>
<hr/><p>Jisung used to think he had an overactive imagination, maybe some sort of internalized fear towards spirits. </p><p> </p><p>Mr. Qian took one look at him and dismissed the thought. </p><p> </p><p>Jisung doesn’t dream about spirits; he enters the spirit world every night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Welp, there we go! Chapter 1!!!!!</p><p>Jisung...poor you...</p><p>More about the rest of dream coming soon, bc even though this is a chenji fic, all of dream are pretty important! </p><p>Hopefully I portrayed the emotions well especially since these characters are going to feel more soon lol</p><p>thank you so much for reading and all your support &lt;3!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Meet Cute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Some looks into the past + more abt the other dreamies!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys!!! I'm back!</p><p>I feel like I've been writing super fast recently LOL so there might be a few mistakes...but here it is!!!</p><p>please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Seven Years Ago </em>
</p><p> </p><p>There’s an incredibly brief window of time when a newborn infant has just entered the world and has not yet activated their energy veins; in this moment, the baby is trapped in a sort of stasis, energy in the body stagnant. There are only theories about what exactly occurs within these few seconds, because there’s been no human that can survive with energy that doesn’t <em> move- </em> such energy festers and turns fatal. </p><p> </p><p>It's been a topic of research that has stumped scientists for millenia. How do infants survive this period of time where their energy lies still? Qian Kun is dangerously close to finding out the full truth when he gets a call about a young Park Jisung.</p><p> </p><p>Park Jisung, whose energy veins form a tangled mess in his chest. His tiny hands tremble like baby birds, and his eyes have a dull, wet sheen to them, resting above deep dark circles unbefitting of a child his age. Park Jisung, whose energy is <em> stained </em>, ink blots spreading over him in erratic formations. Children are born pure - not Jisung, apparently. </p><p> </p><p>Kun gets a call about Jisung because his theory rests upon the belief that when infants are just born, their souls haven’t yet fully coalesced. A mushy, half-formed soul sits within, gaining strength to be functional outside of the womb, becoming whole within moments. But where is the soul<em> coming </em>from?</p><p> </p><p>The first time Kun sees Jisung, the child trembles under three layers of clothes, sniffling even in the spring weather. Jisung’s nose bleeds twice in one hour and he has tissues in his pocket specifically for this; the packaging is patterned in children’s cartoons. He’s gangly, not short, but thin from his illness. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t smile as much as a kid should, but when he does, his energy turns into the most beautiful yellow Kun has ever seen. When he talks about his dreams, his energy turns purple, red, streaks of pale green darting about like lightning. Fear, uncertainty, anxiety. </p><p> </p><p>Jisung dreams about the spirit world because in the moments when his soul was completing the transfer to his body, it never fully made it over the divide between the human and spirit world. </p><p> </p><p>In short, Jisung’s soul is not whole; it’s fractured, and the parts are so far apart that the distance can not even be described. In short, Jisung’s going to die, <em> very </em>soon.</p><p> </p><p>Well, Kun didn’t give up his dream of being an idol to pursue medicine just to let this kid die. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jisung’s dreams turn infinitely more terrifying when he learns from Mr. Qian that he’s not, in fact, having normal over the counter nightmares. He’s dreaming on steroids, projecting his consciousness <em> into </em>the spirit world to find the lost part of his soul.</p><p> </p><p>Which is kind of cool, because no one has ever seen the spirit world and survived, but is kind of extremely terrible since it means that Jisung’s chances of survival are not very high. For most kids, the concept of death is a very “farm upstate”, “he’s in a better place”, “you’ll see them again” sort of ordeal. For Jisung, it’s more like, “you have ten years left at most.” That is definitely not something someone who has only just completed his first ten years of life wants to hear. </p><p> </p><p>Besides that, it also means that his mental state can become extremely twisted from constantly being, you know, <em> ripped from his body and inserted into a non-human world </em>. If his landing in the spirit world goes wrong, or if a spirit decided to do something to him, or if he didn’t return to his body correctly, there could be devastating effects. </p><p> </p><p>And there <em> have been </em> devastating effects. The first time it happened, it was when he took strong sleeping medicine. The idea was that if his consciousness was shut down, it couldn’t migrate to a whole other world while he slept. </p><p> </p><p>It...well, it wasn’t really what any of them expected. Instead of that, he was simply trapped in the spirit world for much longer. </p><p> </p><p>Messing with his already fragile body by taking sleeping medicine definitely shut him down, but it shut down his physical body instead and he entered a week-long coma. With nowhere for his mind to return, he could only stay in the spirit world. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Neo Academy has a long history of taking in the spiritually gifted children and allowing them to nurture their talents. For a world that generally looks down on spiritual energy and fears spirits, it’s necessary to have a space where like-minded students can come together and learn how to protect themselves and each other. </p><p> </p><p>It’s especially important, because most of the people that end up with spirits tend to already be students at the Academy. In these cases, the spirits have a grace period within the Academy to prepare for their entrance to a society that still hasn’t fully welcomed their presence. </p><p> </p><p>Otherwise, kids who wake up on their eighteenth birthday and find a spirit in their laps might undergo controversial surgeries to separate the spirit from their soul. These surgeries have a fifty percent success rate - the other half of these kids die. In the case of a success, the kids no longer have the ability to wield their energy and the spirits are cast out into the streets to fend for themselves. Most of these poor spirits, separated from their hosts, dissipate into thin air. </p><p> </p><p>When one goes from simply spiritually talented to becoming a spirit handler, there are responsibilities to fulfill. There are reasons that the universe grants certain people spirits and others go without; spirits are called to fill a place in the universe, like any other being. When the natural order of the world is disregarded and forcefully destroyed, there are consequences to bear.</p><p> </p><p>Not being able to wield one’s spiritual energy is seen as a major handicap, as extreme as losing one of the five senses. To see such a cost as being preferable to living with a spirit companion is utterly deviant from what the universe intended. </p><p> </p><p>When one’s spirit companion dissipates, even after separation, the spirit handler experiences extreme health consequences. One’s energy veins may be the force that keeps people moving, but it is <em> not </em>a renewable energy source. The soul, the core of every being, is the furnace that feeds into the energy veins, the ocean into the rivers. If one’s spirit, even after separation, dissipates, the soul too weakens incredibly so. More often than not, the unfortunate pair moves on from the living world together. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Two Years Ago </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jeno grew up with traditionalist parents who kept a tight circle of similarly close-minded friends. As such, he grew up surrounded by like-minded people who shunned anyone with an inkling of interest towards spirits. </p><p> </p><p>That of course, was kind of terrible for Jeno, since he could feel the bursts of spiritual energy flooding his body at all moments. His body was his biggest traitor, filled to the brim with such energy even though he desperately willed it away. </p><p> </p><p>He knew that at that rate, come eighteen, he’d have a spirit whether he wanted one or not. People with as much energy as him were more or less guaranteed a companion. Come eighteen, he would have to have the surgery that would most likely kill him. Call him crazy, but Jeno really was not pleased to have to die at eighteen.</p><p> </p><p>Through his teenage years before then, he practiced various meditations to expel spiritual energy, bought all sorts of herbal teas that were marketed as a one and done fix for excess spiritual energy. Nothing worked. </p><p> </p><p>On his eighteenth birthday, Jaemin appeared before him, a shapeless blob that crackled and moved like nothing Jeno had ever seen. Jaemin didn’t have a very warm welcoming into the human world, which Jeno still regrets to this day. The first thing Jaemin saw was Jeno, curled in the corner of his closet, screaming and sobbing into a pillow. If Jeno could redo that day, he would a thousand times over, because Jeno hates to remember the times when he didn’t love Jaemin.</p><p>Either way, Jaemin’s first glimpse into his new life was a snotty teenager who was having probably the biggest breakdown he’d ever had. And still, Jaemin did his best, because even then his heart was so, so big. </p><p> </p><p>Draping over Jeno and cooing in confusion, Jaemin tried to comfort his spirit handler, even though he couldn’t yet speak. The spirit wavered around Jeno, concerned. All Jeno could think was, <em> this is my first hug in a while </em>. </p><p> </p><p>In panic, Jeno flinched back and held out his arms. <em> Stay away </em> , he tried to convey. Don’t come closer, because Jeno really can’t accept this. Of course, the noise caught the attention of his parents, who, upon storming in, saw Jeno, tear-streaked and panicked with a spirit in front of him. <em> His </em> spirit, if the spirit mark running across his leg meant anything. </p><p> </p><p>Jumbled words escaped Jeno without his volition. He can’t remember exactly what he had said, but it was a whole mix of “I didn’t mean to”, “sorry”, “tried not to”, “accident”, and “sorry again”. Jaemin curled into a tiny ball and stayed motionless. Jeno thinks this was the first time he really, really hurt Jaemin, though the spirit never said anything. As for his parents...well, with cold, practiced movements, his father stalked away and didn’t say a word. His mother, sobbing, called the clinic and scheduled the surgery immediately. </p><p> </p><p>So of course, this led to a very awkward week of coexistence before their appointment, where Jaemin was banned to the underside of Jeno’s bed, and Jeno was strictly forbidden from acknowledging his existence. At night, Jeno would cry himself to sleep and Jaemin would keen miserably from his station beneath the bed. </p><p> </p><p>When Jeno slept, Jaemin would stroke Jeno’s forehead to smooth the furrows between his brows. He would chase away the nightmares until dawn, when he would retreat once more. Then, Jeno would wake up, be hit with the burning desire to see his spirit companion, and then forcefully move his legs, <em> right left right left </em>, to run out of his room. </p><p> </p><p>Finally, the day came. With extreme care, his parents had made sure that no one, absolutely no one, would ever know what had happened. With one quick snip, Jeno and his parents would forget about the dirty little secret under his bed. </p><p> </p><p>Jeno’s parents don’t go in with him. They waited in the car as he shuffled into the hospital, Jaemin contained in a shoebox. </p><p><br/>There was someone scheduled before him - a boy, looking like he’d been crying just seconds before. He was clenching his fists and glancing at the door every few seconds. The boy’s spirit rested in his lap. Jeno shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing over at the shoebox, where Jaemin was undoubtedly laying motionless. </p><p> </p><p>When the doctors came to call out the other teen, there was much resistance. The doctors grabbed his shoulders even as he sobbed and begged his parents, who were sitting in the waiting room emotionless. Kicking and screaming, he was dragged away.</p><p> </p><p>It reminded Jeno of the day his parents had found him, but rather than saying sorry, this boy was saying please. Please don’t take him away. The boy disappeared behind the doors to the surgical room and Jeno felt the pit in his stomach drop while silence pervaded the clinic, moments before chaos erupted.</p><p> </p><p>The boy burst triumphantly back through the doors, eyes filled with fire, spirit firmly in hand, and sprinted for the exit. </p><p> </p><p>As if struck by lightning, Jeno jumped up and blocked the doctors from grabbing him, watching as the boy slipped out the front door, even as he was missing one shoe. Jeno’s actions caught up to him a moment later and he stood there in shock, a little surprised by what he just did.  </p><p> </p><p>“What,” the boy’s parents screeched, “are you doing?” Jeno didn’t quite know himself. As the parents shoved him to the ground and gave chase for their son, Jeno looked around the room that had fallen into disarray. No one paid him any attention. His gaze zeroed in on the shoebox, where Jaemin had peeked out, wary of the noise. </p><p> </p><p>He stayed on the ground for a moment until the pain from falling bloomed across his side. It felt...really bad, actually. But also, really good; it was proof that he didn’t just imagine what he had done. It was proof he could do what he was about to do. </p><p> </p><p>When Jeno opened the shoebox and swiftly deposited Jaemin into the pocket of his hoodie, the spirit flinched away violently. That was fair enough, considering Jeno hadn’t really initiated contact the whole time they’d known each other. Jeno walked through the door and picked a random direction, not stopping for anything. </p><p> </p><p>He made it back to his house before his parents (he still wonders if his parents weren’t there because they let him run away, or if they just didn’t see him leave the clinic; he doesn’t know what would hurt less), and sprinted to his room where he had stashed emergency supplies. When he was packing the money, clothes, and food a day before, he was thinking <em> just in case </em>. </p><p> </p><p>In case Jeno did what he had just done. </p><p> </p><p>On his way out, his traitorous hands grabbed a family picture which he stuffed into his back pocket, because while he doesn’t want to ever see his parents again he also doesn’t want to never <em> see </em>them again. He slammed the door as he left, and it felt really good. It felt like he popped a bubble that had been taking up space in his chest that he didn’t even know about. Jaemin was releasing frantic clicks from where he’d wrapped around Jeno’s neck. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Jeno had said, pretending to be confident, “we’re not going back.” He wasn’t sure if that answered Jaemin because he still couldn’t understand his spirit, but he thinks Jaemin understood him because the spirit remained silent, a comforting weight on his neck.</p><p> </p><p>After a week, Jeno and Jaemin had fixed their bond and Jeno knew not even surgery could split them apart anymore. Being on the run together does that, Jeno supposes. Jumping through a variety of hoops, they had been accepted by Neo Academy, which regularly takes in students like them. Upon entering the dorm, their new home for the unforeseeable future, the first person they met was the boy from the clinic. </p><p> </p><p>Donghyuck, who had refused to be parted from Renjun and had thus given Jeno the strength to choose life with Jaemin over all else. Donghyuck, who sat with Jeno when they missed their parents even though they hated them as well. Renjun, who helped Jaemin get over his fear of cramped spaces and never blamed Jeno for it. Renjun, who protected the other three even though he needed protection too.</p><p> </p><p>And Jeno, who helped a stranger and let him run free. Jeno, who was the reason Donghyuck and Renjun still had each other. Jaemin, who always let others lean on him even when he was still hurting inside. Jaemin, who smiled so widely, so brightly, until he could sit and cry when he was alone. </p><p> </p><p>And then, Mark. A year older, spiritless. Mildly confused by the collective trauma that seemed to weigh the dorm down, but still willing to help.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I’m the hyung here, huh,” he’d said, so easily. And he took on their burdens over his own, and lifted them all higher until the two spirits and two boys could smile without feeling <em> so </em> tired anymore. Until they were ready to welcome Jisung and make sure that he would also have hyungs to look at when things got rough. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Six Years Ago </em>
</p><p> </p><p>While Jeno was researching ways to suppress his natural talent for utilizing spiritual energy, Jisung was spending hours each day doing the opposite. Mr. Qian put him and his eleven year old body through the wringer, making him do exercises that sometimes made no sense. </p><p> </p><p>It was things like watching birds, spending time outside, beating the next level of a video game just as it was “take these supplements, have your parents help circulate your energy, make sure to sleep eight hours a day, at the least”. The issue was with sleeping; once Mr. Qian realized that Jisung was escaping to the spirit world each night, things got somewhat tricky. If they could only eliminate that factor, things would be infinitely easier. </p><p> </p><p>The sleep medicine was a liquid, dark green and cloudy in the bottom of Jisung’s cup. Surprisingly, it was smooth across his tongue, though the flavor was a terrifyingly bitter shock that stuck to his tongue like a film - moments later, the flavor turned inexplicably spicy.</p><p> </p><p>Jisung glanced over at his parents, who were watching over him worriedly, and was about to say something along the lines of “this isn’t quite right”, but didn’t get the chance because he promptly fell into a coma. </p><p> </p><p>When he opened his eyes, he could immediately tell that things were different. Where in the past the dream world was a sort of blur that he only remembered brief flashes of, this was vivid. This was the feeling of grit between his toes and the feeling of a humid breeze sticking to his skin. The feeling of panic swelling in his chest like a tidal wave, the cold, freezing anxiety in the pads of his fingers. </p><p> </p><p>The spirits swirled around him, peering curiously. Later, Chenle will tell Jisung that the first night after taking the medicine, Jisung struck the earth like lightning and shone like a beacon. After all, spirits were wispy, fluid; Jisung’s body seemed to be rigid, unable to flip and twist like the others in the spirit world. </p><p> </p><p>(and, of course, Jisung always shined the brightest to Chenle, though the spirit kept that part to himself)</p><p> </p><p>A few spirits tried to touch him, and they succeeded. He flew to the ground, letting out a whimper of pain and fear. The spirits let out confused titters, clicking and groaning like an ungreased door. They had never been able to touch him before.</p><p> </p><p>Jisung, completely frozen in fear, felt each joint lock up and turn still.</p><p> </p><p><em> Move, </em> he willed, <em> move, please, move! </em> His body didn’t listen and he stayed there, folded into himself, head bent towards the ground. He could only see the bottom ends of the spirits like this and could only hear them as they inched closer, infinitely curious. </p><p> </p><p>And then, a soft blanket was thrown over his shoulders. Jisung squeaked and turned his head to look at who gave him the blanket but- oh. </p><p> </p><p>The blanket was a spirit. Of course. </p><p> </p><p>Jisung’s scream died painfully in his throat and his whole body trembled with a fear that sunk into his bones, rooting him to the spot. The spirit, meanwhile, gurgled cheerfully, and flashed pink, twice. Jisung hoped that was a good sign. Is it possible to pee in the spirit world? He prayed not. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>That week was probably the worst week of his life. It consisted of Jisung curling into a ball and trying to remain unseen. It was kind of a “if I can’t see you, you can’t see me” mentality that Jisung adopted. The friendly spirit helped by covering his eyes. </p><p>
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</p><p>Jisung woke up after a week to sobbing parents and a very grim Mr. Qian, who nearly got on his knees to apologize. But it wasn’t anyone’s fault and apologies wouldn’t take anything back. </p><p> </p><p>Jisung’s dreams were always like that from then on, terribly vivid, incredibly traumatizing. Trying not to sleep wasn’t effective either; if he didn’t sleep for two days straight, he would only collapse for longer times later. He also found, with growing concern, that bruises and scratches he got in his dreams would appear on his real body.  </p><p> </p><p>It would be a concern if he didn’t have his spirit friend who also doubled as a suit of armor. It was kind of terrible still, to be stuck with such a disease, one that awaited him each night. For a while, Jisung ended up taking some other medicines to...balance his disposition. The blanket didn’t like that. At all. </p><p> </p><p>It’s because the medicines made him completely unable to move in his dreams, lifeless. His blanket friend seemed to lose energy when Jisung did. During that year or so, they would sit side by side, still. </p><p> </p><p>But Jisung couldn’t feel much sadness over it; he couldn’t feel much of anything at the time. Which, to be honest, had its own charms. He misses it sometimes. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Present - A week before Jisung turns 18 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin has been learning how to cook in the past few months. Now that Renjun and Jaemin have near total control over their human forms, they’ve been branching off into various interests, like singing, dancing, painting. </p><p> </p><p>Jaemin has taken on a passion project; throwing Jisung the biggest celebration of his life. To be honest, while Jaemin knows that 18 is an incredibly important year for humans, he's not sure how to celebrate it. He’s only been around for one 18th birthday, and that was...well, he’d rather not ponder over that day too much. </p><p> </p><p>But Jaemin has seen 19 and 20 and he can take a guess at what they will need; cake, food, presents, and tissues. Tissues, because Jisung is probably going to cry; it’s more or less a given by now, for any major event, birthday or not. </p><p> </p><p>The main issue is that Jaemin needs to know how they will prepare for Jisung’s spirit companion, who Jaemin knows will be arriving that day as well. Though Donghyuck, Jeno, and Mark think Jisung’s soul is too weak to summon a companion, Renjun and Jaemin aren’t so sure it’s impossible. </p><p> </p><p>The two of them know best what a spirit is, and have been in close proximity with Jisung’s soul; his soul has the faintest traces of spirit on it, lingering like an aftertaste. It could mean nothing. It could mean everything. </p><p> </p><p>So far, Renjun has decided to go with the flow, completely removing himself from the situation. Jaemin has decided to bake two cakes, because one will be for the birthday and one will be for their new roommate. The new spirit won’t be able to eat, probably, but it would be a nice welcome.</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin learns very quickly that baking a cake is not as easy as it seems; when the spirit shows up at Taeyong’s doorstep, covered in flour and golden tears, the older student ushers him in and brutally trains him in the art of cake making, ruthlessly judging each cake. Doyoung watches bemused from behind them, and continuously asks questions about Jeno until Taeyong has to make him leave. </p><p> </p><p>At Taeyong’s, Jaemin cries more, stress sobbing as each pan is deemed unworthy by the older boy and thrown in the trash. He never went home without gold dusting his cheeks, the color of spirit tears. But, by god, by the end of the week, he’s going to bake the best cakes Jisung has ever eaten, which is not a very tall order, because Jisung wasn’t allowed to have too much sugar as a kid. (Nearly everything was pretty fatal to Jisung until just a few years ago when spiritual therapy started working, including too much sugar).</p><p> </p><p>In the meantime, three broke students pile together enough money to buy Jisung that jacket he’s been eyeing for the past month. Renjun cheers them on. (Secretly, he visits some dark alley at night and slips another spirit a few of his tears in return for a potion that lets people change their hair color at will, because Jisung always wanted to try blue).</p><p> </p><p>Jisung, meanwhile, is somewhat panicking over the spirit in his dreams, especially since he’s been stuck in dreamless sleep ever since. He hardly notices the way that his friends carefully whisper around him to hide their plans, but it really doesn’t matter because they accidentally talk about it in front of him when they think he’s napping. He hasn’t really napped since six years ago, but they don’t need to know that. </p><p> </p><p>Unable to dream for seemingly the first time in years and years, he also can’t enter the spirit world. Any other time, this would be cause for celebration. At this specific time? Jisung has no way to contact his friend and see if the spirit is okay.</p><p> </p><p>The week passes by slowly, and the night before Jisung’s 18th birthday, he enters the spirit world once more. </p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>plz excuse my constant changes in tense i caught a couple but im sure there are more LOL</p><p>+++my headcanon that the 00' line does not trust a single adult and was super wary of jisung's parents until they showed up and the 00' line was like....what???normal middle-aged parents??? who aren't super horrible??? anyway they deserve love bye </p><p>Feel free to comment if you enjoyed or have constructive criticism &lt;3</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sorry (but it's okay)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jisung's 18th birthday party turns sour!</p>
<p>We finally meet -the spirit-</p>
<p>The spirit is cute.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone!</p>
<p>First of all, thank you guys for all the support and sweet comments! It really makes me feel better about my writing and this fic. </p>
<p>Second of all, this chapter. Oh boy, this chapter. I wrote like, half of it, before deciding that it was just no good! LOL, I made everything kind of funny and happy, because it's not easy for me to write heavier material, but I think that something totally light hearted might not fit the theme of this work? At least not yet - for now, things are a bit rocky, but they get better with time. So, I rewrote a lot of it, and it took me a long time to write the rest!</p>
<p>third!!! I changed the summary!!!! but in case you wanted to know, this is the old summary :</p>
<p>"The portal’s energy swirls toward him like a starved beast, swallowing his arm before he can shout. Jisung flinches, bites his cheek hard. The portal’s opaque energy makes it hard to see past the barrier, shrouding his arm in dark shadows.<br/>From beyond the edge, another hand grasps his own.</p>
<p>or, Jisung learns that he is loved."</p>
<p>it just didn't feel right anymore, so i updated it LOL!</p>
<p>Finally, I hope you enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <span>Everything is gone. The spirit world, once full of scraggly trees and looming spirits, is completely barren, fields of dirt stretching miles and miles away. Jisung landed on his knees this time, and when he scrambles up on his feet, blood trickles languidly down his leg, dripping down and seeping between his toes. The stain on the earth is dark. </span>
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    <span>He walks forward a step, and pauses. Swivels, pauses to look. What’s he supposed to do now? Is there even a point in walking when every direction looks the same?</span>
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    <span>“You returned” a voice whispers, “you came back for me.” It sounds far away, like the person talking is buried under a mountain of blankets, or rather, like Jisung is buried instead. </span>
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    <span>“I knew you would.”</span>
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    <span>Jisung blinks and stares at his hand, which flickers in the dull moon light, looking transparent and barely there. His heart thumps, slowly. </span>
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    <span>Everything, he realizes, feels like it’s far away. The ticking of his heart gets louder. Thump, thump, like footsteps, now. He shakes his head, feeling inexplicably like he’s got water stuck in his ears. </span>
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    <span>“Don’t cry,” the voice says, right behind him. Cry? Is he crying? Jisung lifts one hand to his cheek, and it comes away dusted in gold. A hand lands on his shoulder, warm, and reassuring. </span>
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    <span>“It’s okay. I’m here now.”</span>
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    <span>A sob rips out of Jisung’s chest, and his breath quickens, the harsh staccato of his crying contrasting with the steady pump of his heart. </span>
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    <span>“I- I don’t know why I’m crying,” Jisung stammers, harshly wiping his face with a sleeve, “sorry.” The hand on his shoulder is heavy and it feels like a promise. </span>
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    <span>When Jisung turns around, there’s no one there, but he sees a door, plain in design and white in color. Though he doesn’t know who the hand belonged to, or where the person went, he knows like he knows the </span>
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    <span>sky is above him and the ground is below him that the person is beyond the door, waiting for Jisung to find them.</span>
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<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just ten feet away, Jisung thinks. Eight feet, now that he’s taken two steps. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The issue is that looking at the door, or even thinking about the door, fills Jisung with violent dread and apprehension. His skin feels too loose and too tight at the same time, and his scalp tingles with his fear, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>growing cold. The scrape on his knee throbs with each beat of his heart, mimicking the panic that swells and ebbs in his chest. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Come!” The voice commands him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Jisung crosses the distance in three large strides and throws open the door, unprepared for what is within; a portal, dark in color. He lifts a hand tentatively, as if to touch, but holds back. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The portal’s energy swirls toward him like a starved beast, swallowing his arm before he can shout. Jisung flinches, bites his cheek hard. The taste of coppery blood floods his mouth and makes him swallow </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>back a scream. He can’t see beyond the door, since the energy inside is dark, black in color, like the color of a spirit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You came,” the voice whispers, gleeful and jubilant, a twinkle of starlight, the chime of bells in the afternoon breeze.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>From beyond the edge, another hand grasps his own. As their fingers slot together, Jisung feels a deep burden in his chest lift, and it floats away like falling flowers in the wind. This is the last piece of the puzzle, the last line of the poem, the ripple after skipping stones; this is wholeness. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaemin and Renjun only need a few hours of sleep everyday, so they wake up earliest out of the boys. They find themselves in the hallway at the same time, groggily cuddling a bit before taking on human forms to do their own respective tasks; Jaemin has two cakes to bake and Renjun has to decorate, because he’s not letting the humans get anywhere near decor ever since what happened last time. So what Renjun can’t spell? He’s only been learning how to write for two years and having a sign that says “Hapy Birthdey!” is better than having no sign at all, or worse, an ugly one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While Jaemin starts destroying the kitchen, Renjun gets to blowing balloons at a ridiculous pace. Both are so focused on their tasks they hardly notice the abnormality in the dorm’s spiritual energy, the way the energy bends and twists around Jisung’s room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the other boys finally wake up, they groggily pile on the couch before Renjun smacks them into action. Mark is on standby; Jeno is on heavy lifting; Donghyuck is on helping Jaemin, who is currently sobbing golden tears while icing the cakes. (So, Donghyuck is giving Jaemin moral support in the form of compliments and hugs every five minutes) </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With hive-minded focus, the group of students fix the dorm into a glittery fairyland suitable for an 18th birthday bash. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s to be expected, then, that no one notices Jisung’s absence as a problem. He normally sleeps in on weekends anyway and on this Saturday, it’s better he doesn’t wake up before they’re ready. It becomes a problem when they’re ready and Jisung </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t awake; not a cause for concern, but Donghyuck’s getting antsy and Mark’s getting nervous. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>10:21 AM on Jisung’s 18th birthday, five boys barge into his room to throw confetti in his face and sing until he wakes up. It would have worked on any other birthday, but this one seems to have brought a turn of events no one could have predicted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s dead!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In Jisung’s bed lies two boys, curled up and facing each other, hands clasped in their slumber. Before the others can process the sight, they’ve already thrown the confetti, and no matter how much they sing or shout, neither boy wakes up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He is not </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jesus,” Mr. Qian huffs, “he’s obviously alive!” Mr. Qian is wearing an overly large t-shirt that seems old, paired with brightly colored athletic shorts. His hair is standing in all directions and his glasses are so crooked they might as well be sideways. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The students are watching him warily; one of the most profound experiences is to see a teacher in casual clothes. Mr. Qian almost always wears knit vests over dress shirts, neat slacks and color coordinated socks finished with sleek shoes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You told him Jisung </span>
  <em>
    <span>died</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Mark stares in disbelief at Jaemin who blinks innocently.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t that just mean he’s in deep sleep?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mr. Qian doubles over, hands on his knees, looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> tired. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It would seem,” he wheezes, “that student Na Jaemin has not yet mastered human colloquialisms.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah...would you like some cake?” Jaemin smiles his most winning smile - the same smile that has half the student body under his thumb. But Mr. Qian is bonded to Ten, and that has taught him a thing or two about spirits using their charms to manipulate others. He ignores the question and immediately dials a number which he has on speed dial.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m flattered that you called me first, but you know, his parents would want to know if he died as well,” Mr. Qian utters as the phone rings. His demeanor changes entirely once Jisung’s mom picks up; from slumped shoulders to straightened spine, from dead stare to bright eyes, Kun the baby-sitter transforms into Mr. Qian the professional. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Mrs. Park! Yes, yes...no, nothing major...well, kind of…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, anything compared to death couldn’t be considered major, but still, Jisung entering a coma after summoning a spirit is not quite minor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jisung’s spirit mark is inky black, forming a constellation of stars spanning his chest and wrapping around his back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the middle of the night and the boys were finally forced to go home by Mr. Qian an hour ago, though he reassured them they could skip their classes for a few days at least. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jisung’s parents stand over his bed in the hospital, wracked with memories of a young Jisung who shook like a leaf in the wind. Their son has come a long way, and today they know that if he woke up and stood, he would be taller than both of them, looking down at them with a silly grin.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His mom clasps a hand over her mouth to quiet her sobs and his dad shifts uneasily in the rigid hospital chair, trapped in a nightmare. They have nightmares too, about failing their son, about him relapsing, about all the times he collapsed, about him not getting up again. And they never expected this would happen again, now, when Jisung was already recovering and doing so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <span>Jisung’s mom pats his hand and brushes his hair out of his face. Her son is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She brushes his cheek and walks over to the other bed in the room, the new addition to their family. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boy here is also comatose. She strokes his hair and tucks him in, tearing up again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The over familiar feeling of guilt and regret rises within her body again, filling her body with damnation that roars in her chest, rattling against her ribcage and demanding to be let out. She brutally tamps down this feeling, crushing it into a little ball and throwing it away. When she delivered her son into this world, she could not protect him, couldn't give him a vessel strong enough to hold his soul. She’s never stayed at the hospital for anything but giving birth, and yet Jisung has had to spend </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much time here, when he should be living his life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had to watch as Jisung crumbled apart before her eyes, suffering in the body </span>
  <em>
    <span>she gave him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The most beautiful son, the best son in the world, and a useless mother. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She cries over Jisung’s spirit companion’s prone body. Now there are two people, her son and his spirit, that might not wake up because of her inability to fulfill the most basic duty of a mother. Jisung’s dad, awakened, gently walks her back to her seat and wipes her tears, waiting until she can breathe regularly again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she whispers, as if not to wake up her son, though she couldn’t anyway. Sorry for what happened 18 years ago, for not being strong enough to handle it, for not knowing how to fix it, for crying right now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” he says, “I’m here with you”. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knows what she’s feeling right now, knows it intimately, knows he has felt and will likely feel it again. It’s the wish to run away battling with the wish to stay. She falls asleep on his shoulder. Neither of them would ever walk away, because staying takes much less than it gives. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Come morning, the nurses wake them up. They give them water and space to collect themselves, opening the blinds and checking on Jisung and the spirit. Some are humming, some are chatting lightly. It’s amazing what the little things can do to soothe the soul, these small kindnesses that allude to bigger love.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The boys are here again,” a nurse says, not needing to specify who exactly, “would you like me to send them in?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, of course.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the boys burst through the door, all in states of visible distress, they allow Jisung’s parents to give out hugs and fuss over them before immediately launching themselves at Jisung’s bedside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>While Donghyuck and Jaemin stare tearfully at Jisung’s sleeping face, Jeno and Renjun set a few bags on the spirit’s bedside stand. Enchanted flowers, snacks, drinks, and a magical music box the boys had loaded with their favorite songs the night before, everything a spirit might want to see as soon as they enter the human world. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“To make him feel welcomed,” Jeno explains, demurely, just as Renjun says, “incentive for waking up sooner.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mark, obviously running on little to no sleep, smiles at Jisung’s parents the way one would at a child, which is kind of him but also a bit condescending. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We can watch them, if you guys wanna go home to pick up some clothes or freshen up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jisung’s dad sighs. He supposes that with the way they look, Mark’s offer is not uncalled for. Ruffling the boy’s hair, he walks Jisung’s mom out the door, even as she hesitantly glances back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No one knows what to say. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If no one’s going to say it, I will - Jisung’s spirit is really cute.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mark gives Jaemin an exasperated sigh that says </span>
  <em>
    <span>really not the time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but the other boys mumble half-hearted agreements. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, and he’d be cuter if he was awake,” Jaemin continues, through his tears. No one saw him start crying, but he’s fully weeping now, huge golden tears creeping down his face. Jeno and Donghyuck both move to comfort the spirit, both looking dangerously close to crying themselves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s going to have the best smile,” Donghyuck whispers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then they have to wake up,” Renjun decides, firmly, “‘cuz they gotta smile.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment, Donghyuck suddenly straightens up and turns to look in surprise at Renjun, who has turned away from the group, silently pondering something. But Donghyuck doesn’t need to see his face, because he feels the emotion plainly through their bond, a plaintive cry singing in his veins.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Renjun.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The spirit is crying, too, gold dripping down his face. He loses grip on his human form and finally settles on a shape that looks suspiciously like a loaf of bread, until two legs pop out. Donghyuck scoops up the spirit when Renjun runs over, cradling and petting him until the small, hiccuping sobs subside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaemin looks like he wants to do the same, but doesn’t until Mark gives him a reassuring nod. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not strictly proper for spirits to take on ambiguous shapes in public, but there’s no one here besides them. Besides, if anyone had anything to say, they’d have to go through Mark, who was on the debate team in highschool and knows how to argue. (And Jeno, who could probably deadlift Mark. And Donghyuck, who can make anyone cry with a few words.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So then, Jaemin becomes a puddle-like mass on the floor that sloshes over to sit on the end of Jisung’s spirit’s bed, watchfully. This spirit is Jisung’s companion, and must be protected just as tightly as Jisung. Now that they are in this world together, if one is hurt, the other suffers just the same. No one knows exactly what is happening, or why this spirit already holds a human form so well, but it doesn’t matter; this is Jisung’s companion, and therefore, part of their family. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jeno and Mark slump into seats and take a few deep breaths together. Jisung’s condition is stable, but uncertain. At least for now, Jisung and his spirit are fine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jisung’s parents return to find a room full of kids who had obviously fallen asleep while watching over their friend. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing fondly, they end up jumping a foot in the air when a voice calls out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Jisung opened the door and freed Chenle from his restraints, Jisung also expended an excessive amount of energy, which he couldn’t really afford. In the process, though he was successful in unleashing his spirit companion, he also shredded an energy vein by forcing too much power through it. His body, going into panic mode, put him into a coma so that it could repair the vein as soon as possible. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chenle, whose soul had been trapped behind that door since Jisung’s birth, was also extremely weak when he was freed. On top of that, he made the journey into the human world immediately, and so he too was unable to wake up immediately. However, Neo Academy is situated in an area where the boundary between human and spirit world is relatively thin, and spiritual energy is rife in the surrounding air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By absorbing the surrounding energy, Chenle recuperated exponentially quicker until he was able to wake up, and see six boys in the same room as him, all unconscious. Unsure of what to do, he simply waited until Jisung’s parents returned, the first people Chenle saw who were actually awake.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Jisung was born, he left behind a piece of his soul in the spirit world. Things in the spirit world are not so linear and structured as in the human world; it was all too easy to accidentally swallow Jisung’s lost soul fragment and absorb it into himself, in the undulating chaos that is the spirit world. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it was his divine punishment, then, that a fragment of Chenle’s soul was subsequently lost and given to Jisung. By this, Jisung wouldn’t die from not having a whole soul, but he also wouldn’t be able to</span>
  <em>
    <span> live</span>
  </em>
  <span>, per say, since he didn’t have a whole human soul. A patchwork of Chenle and Jisung would let Jisung survive, but only just barely. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chenle, on the other hand, had a slightly different experience. His soul fragment was stored securely in Jisung’s heart and locked away tightly. Over the years, as Jisung’s energy veins grew, they wrapped around Chenle’s fragment like a river flowing around a large rock. Because Chenle’s soul touched Jisung’s energy veins, Chenle’s energy bled into Jisungs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Spirits don’t have solid forms. They can imitate one, but it’s really not their natural state. As such, their souls are more than just a part of them, but rather are their entire essence and being. Simply put, Chenle was living in Jisung’s body, sentient this whole time, ever since his soul could touch Jisung’s energy veins.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It never quite made sense where Chenle’s weird, foggy visions (of a mom and dad, painful nights, endless days, and recently, friends) came from, until of course, Jisung opened the portal. As part of Chenle was tucked away in Jisung’s heart, he wasn’t really fully in the human world, but rather in an in-between space where he could kind of see the world, but not really.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s why Jisung suffered while Chenle didn’t - Jisung’s soul, mixed with Chenle’s, came into contact with the spirit world directly while Chenle’s was surrounded by Jisung’s energy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s why he had to open the door to let Chenle’s soul fragment out from within himself, so that it could reconvene with the rest of Chenle’s soul and cross the distance between spirit and human worlds.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That’s why, when Jisung’s parents walked through the door, Chenle already knew who they were. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chenle knows who all these people are; he’s seen them before in brief flashes and memories, from his stay in Jisung’s heart. He also knows that this is a hospital; Chenle received enough visions of blank white walls and crinkly beds to know this much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What he doesn’t know, however, is why he’s here. Why is he here, surrounded by Jisung’s friends, while Jisung himself is knocked out across the room? He’s really reaching his limit, just about to wake the one closest to him (Jenny? Je-something? Chenle only saw brief moments of Jisung’s life and the only names he knows are his own and Jisung’s) when Jisung’s mom and dad enter the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Chenle a moment to say anything because he thinks it over and ultimately decides that it’s really not the wisest decision to call them “Mom, dad!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” He settles on a neutral greeting, rather than, “are these people sleeping or dead, because some of them are kind of far away from me and I can’t tell” but he doesn’t know too many human words. He only knows the ones he saw through his soul fragment, and of course, the ones that Jisung would say to him each night. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An innocuous “hello” still proves too shocking. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, god!” Jisung’s mother jumps in the air.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha- you, you...wh-”. Jisung’s father loses the ability to speak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boys around the room start to wake up, tiredly rubbing their eyes and not so aware of their surroundings just yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Jisung, across the room, wakes up, roused by all the noise. He has never quite had this sensation before, but it feels more than a little bit like his heart has left his body and is currently sitting across the room. When he lifts his gaze, a little concerned by all the space in his chest, he sees...a boy, looking back at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boy gurgles and clicks rapidly, aura flashing in pinks like a disco ball. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, goodness. Jisung knows who this is. Chest tightening infinitely, he lifts a hand in a wave, wiggling his fingers a bit; it’s how he used to greet his friend in the spirit world. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Chenle grins in response, revealing a set of extremely sharp canines. Hm. It would appear that Chenle doesn’t exactly know what human teeth look like yet. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow ! I'm glad i finally wrote chenle in (as a human, at least) since this is, indeed, a Chenji fic!! LOL</p>
<p>I literally saw the opportunity and I took it- yes, Chenle is Jisung's heart. Or was, I guess, until this chapter lol. </p>
<p>Oh, and by the way! Idk if this part made sense, so I'll clarify a bit; when Jisung's heartbeats sound like footsteps (in his dream in the start of this chappy) it's Chenle's footsteps - because he's Jisung's heart...idk lol, thats also why i kept going on abt jisung's heartbeat and stuff...</p>
<p>Thank you so so much for reading and, as always, I hope you enjoyed!</p>
<p>(head canon: kun going home, emotionally in shambles, and considering resigning to pursue his dream of being a idol vs ten telling him he can't quit because where would they live if they were both unemployed. kun says "the trainee dorms" and ten blacks out for a second)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sunset</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey yall! it took me a while to write this chapter because i had a lot of different ideas that didn't work out. also it was just harder this chapter for some reason lol, sorry for the wait :')</p>
<p>anyway! please enjoy! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It has been a weird time for Chenle. First of all, he was relaxing like usual, before all of a sudden, he was sucked into a sort of whirlpool of spiritual energy, which <em> hurt </em>. Then, his soul all of a sudden gained a lost fragment back, which Chenle didn’t even know he had lost!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With that fragment came a sense of clarity which he had never known before. He had known Jisung for so long and yet had never known him like he did now, now that they swapped fragments and formed complete souls again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chenle learned that Jisung had suffered a lot. Whereas Chenle was always happy to see Jisung when he visited, each time they were together, Jisung was terrified all on his own. He was constantly entering a foreign world that he really knew nothing about, and had no power to leave. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Humans just simply aren’t built for the spirit world, just as spirits need a spirit handler to enter the human world. Though, by the way, the human world is still plenty disconcerting, even with a spirit handler. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He felt himself land in the new world and immediately passed out, which is new. Passing out was not a thing for spirits in their original world. When Chenle woke up (which is also new, because spirits didn’t quite sleep in the spirit world) the first thing he saw was a blank white ceiling. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The second thing he saw was another spirit, actually. The spirit was clearly not conscious, that much Chenle could tell. The dark mass of spiritual energy rested by his feet, slumbering peacefully. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The third thing Chenle saw was Jisung, who was in the bed across from him. Filled with sudden desperation, Chenle wanted to immediately leap out of bed and run to Jisung - and he did try, actually. The issue was mainly that he couldn’t quite feel his fingers. Or his feet. Or...any part of his body actually. He has no idea how to move around. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He has to wait until someone wakes up, but he has no idea how long that will take. Chenle has a vague idea of what sleep in the human world means, but really, he’s never seen it in person and he doesn’t really know how to forcefully wake someone up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Honestly, he’s in a bit of a pinch. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>However, interestingly enough, he’s able to recognize these people pretty well. It would seem that his soul fragment has deep impressions and emotions about the world, but has very little practical knowledge. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The spirit on his bed is Jaemin, because the one in Donghyuck’s lap must be Renjun. Jeno must be the one who is currently hunched over in his sleep, because Jeno has the most muscle. Mark must be the other one, because he looks so tired. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Chenle doesn’t even have to look at Jisung to know that it was him, truly. Jisung’s soul is so familiar to him that Chenle can’t help but take notice of it, and the way that it shines brightly  from across the room, just like it did in the spirit world. It’s almost painful to see, because each time Chenle looks at Jisung, his soul feels weak, like it wants to break apart just so a piece of it can live with the other again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chenle passes the time looking at the pattern on the walls and peering curiously at the other boys in the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, Jisung’s mom and dad enter the room. Chenle knows these people, too, in an odd sort of way. These are <em> mom </em> and <em> dad </em> , the people who raised Jisung and are part of his <em> family </em>. Family is a somewhat abstract concept to most spirits, including Chenle, but Chenle knows these two people are quite nice, though Jisung tends to avoid them (Chenle will have to talk to Jisung about this). </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He thinks about how to get their attention. He can’t move his arms to wave. He can’t make any large movements, actually. He does, however, have a voice. He had one in the spirit world, and he feels he has one now - it’s a bit different, but still mostly the same. This one is less...staticky. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung always says that word in greeting, and he knows this at least. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chaos erupts across the room, but Chenle still feels the moment that Jisung crosses over from the land of the sleeping to the land of the awake; they meet eyes for the first time. Chenle never had eyes, not like this, before. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chenle feels a lot. It’s just a <em> lot </em>bubbling up in his chest, a deep, deep level of trust, love, and anticipation. He’s able to recognize these emotions so much better now that his soul is complete. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>At the edges of his awareness, he feels a creeping sense of trepidation brushing along his good feelings. Somehow, Chenle knows this is not his emotion. Somehow, Chenle knows that Jisung is scared, which is okay, because Jisung is always a little scared. (Well, it’s not really okay).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chenle knows that Jisung is not always a fan of big changes or instability in his life. This kind of bothers the spirit because, really, he’s been a part of Jisung’s life for this long already, you’d think the boy would be used to it by now. But, anyway, it’s not a big deal, even if Jisung is nervous about having a spirit companion. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s here for a reason. The universe chose Chenle to accompany Jisung for life, through a bond that is not just mere chance or coincidence. If Jisung needs help, Chenle is supposed to be the first one he turns to. Therefore, if Jisung is scared, Chenle must fulfill his duty as spirit companion and protect his spirit handler, even if he is the cause of that fear. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chenle has been ignorant of Jisung’s fears for too long now - he was useless to protect Jisung from his fears even in the spirit world, his own home. Chenle will not be useless here. He will take on the role of spirit companion and he <em> will </em> do it well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If Jisung is unsure about having Chenle in his life, then Chenle will just have to prove him wrong, which, to be honest, really does not seem that hard to do. After all, Chenle is a delight. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung is glad to have a spirit companion around, really, he is. It’s just kind of extremely terrifying at the same time. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Because as much as Jisung likes his spirit friend, he also doesn’t really know much about him. Like, he <em> knows </em> him, but all of their conversations have been entirely one-sided and Jisung really couldn’t tell you the first thing about the spirit, though the spirit knows everything about Jisung. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So, it’s kind of incredibly frightening to have to live knowing that Jisung now has to just be okay with suddenly being tied to someone like that permanently, completely, wholly, and irreversibly. Their souls are now tied with a bond that can never truly be broken, and Jisung is now more vulnerable than he’s ever been. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung doesn’t like that part of this. He really doesn’t enjoy having to be so <em> upfront </em> and <em> honest </em> about his emotions. He feels weirdly embarrassed about it, even though he knows he can actually feel his spirit’s emotions, too. It’s just, the spirit is so happy and excited, and Jisung can literally <em> see </em> the colors swirling around him, broad expanses of pinks, yellows, bursts of green and purple. The spirit obviously likes Jisung very much and is happy to see him, though still maintaining a healthy amount of mild confusion. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Most people are a jumbled mess of a billion emotions at once, and one emotion is never really just one emotion. Happiness, sadness, anger can all be broken down into subsets, and are really just a composite of secondary emotions. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But this spirit, like a little kid, feels very plainly and very simply. Jisung’s eyes kind of hurt from looking at it - it’s just too bright. But it’s also very pretty, and sticks to the back of his eyelids when he blinks. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Either way, seeing the spirit’s plain happiness kind of makes him feel worse about the nerves that he’s sure are staining his aura with reds, purples, and deep blues. Jisung doesn’t even want to know what his aura looks like, hopes the spirit doesn’t look too close. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Jisung’s aura is a warm tangerine, interspersed with lightning quick flashes of cool toned colors. Chenle thinks it looks like the night sky in the spirit world.)</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>After Jisung’s parents call Mr. Qian, it’s not even fifteen minutes before he rushes in looking a bit more disheveled than usual. The hospital isn’t too far from the Academy, but he’s obviously just ran the two miles or so that separates the two campuses. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Breathing very hard, but still trying to pretend like he’s not actually tired at all, he turns red in the face from the effort before simply giving up, panting a few short breaths. Dignity is important, yes, but in the end, Kun is only human. He stumbles over to greet Jisung’s parents, before awkwardly nodding at the students in the room. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, he stands by the spirit’s bed and offers a handshake, which the spirit obviously declines, because he has no idea what a handshake is. Kun’s hand makes a quick retreat to his side. Everyone in the room is looking at him with varying degrees of disbelief, Jisung being the least surprised. Everyone always thinks that Mr. Qian has it all together. Jisung has been around him too much these past seven years to think that way. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mr. Qian clears his throat. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, first of all, boys, you should get back to the dorms,” the teacher asserts, speaking louder to suppress the groans of protest. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jisung’s going back soon anyway, and you guys are going to get in the way of the documentation we’re about to do.” He waves around a thick stack of papers. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>None of them move for a few moments, but Mr. Qian is still very good at his teacher-voice, even when he’s out of sorts like this. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Donghyuck stands first, stretching out his limbs, dropping Renjun carelessly to the ground. The spirit takes a human form again in midair and lands on his feet, looking very annoyed, but also looking very unsurprised. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jeno and Mark glance at each other before shrugging and getting up at the same time. Mark’s joints pop like bubble wrap from him standing up, and Jeno props him up when his legs start to cramp. Finally, Jaemin, still on the spirit’s bed, returns to his human form. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The boys, with scary efficiency, fall into a seemingly practiced rotation, though Kun knows that couldn’t be the case. Taking turns, a few give Jisung a variety of hugs, pats, and goodbyes while others give his spirit companion waves and smiles. Within two minutes, the procession exits the room, one by one. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung’s parents hold back the urge to collapse into their own beds and move to stand by Mr. Qian, still standing next to the spirit’s bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello,” his mom says warmly, “I’m Jisung’s mom.” She’s very kind, very genuine and sincere. She’s also very good at hiding her worries from young boys. Her smile makes Chenle feel nice inside, but also a little bit greasy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kun blinks and gently reminds, “Mrs. Park, this spirit most likely can not yet understand Korean.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chenle tries to find the proper words to respond. His vocabulary is horribly limited at the moment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi...Jisung mom.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung’s mom grins and claps her hands in excitement. Jisung gives the spirit a thumbs up, though he’s a little bit dreading the inevitable conversation that’s about to happen. How’s he going to explain why the spirit knows Korean?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah...he must be a quick learner, but he’s probably just repeating-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mr. Qian you...w-wrong.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kun stops talking, eyes bugging out. The three adults exchange loaded glances, peering at the spirit curiously. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s your name?” Jisung speaks for the first time in a while, voice hoarse and scratchy. Chenle likes hearing it anyway. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kun stares in shock at the spirit again, because spirits are summoned with names already, but aren’t able to articulate them until much later. It’s already weird enough that this spirit is kind of human shaped but…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chen. Le!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung’s dad grins and his mom coos. Kun sighs. It looks like he’s going to have to call...that person. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Ten arrives five minutes after Kun called him, because as an older, more powerful spirit, short distances within ten miles no longer pose an obstacle to him. He phases through the window, even though they’re on the fifth floor, large sunhat and sunglasses comical on his small frame. His heels click clack as he walks across the room, and the rim of his hat flops up and down. He knows Kun is relying on him for this. It’s a nice little power trip. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung stares, in open shock and admiration. Mr. Qian has never, <em> ever </em> shown Jisung even a picture of his spirit companion - this is a surprise. Jisung had always assumed that Mr. Qian’s spirit companion would match the man’s energy, but this person is so <em> cool. </em> Even his name! It’s just <em> Ten </em>, like the number. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mr. Qian sighs wearily, gesturing vaguely in Ten’s direction. </p>
<p><br/>“This is my spirit companion, Ten. He’s actually a professional consultant on spiritual matters, especially when particular.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ten bows shallowly in greeting, perfect picture of proper manners and decorum. Kun would be fooled if it weren’t for the mocking laughter ringing in his head. Ten does care about this, and he’s going to do his best to help as a professional. He really doesn’t want to make anything harder for this poor family. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But he’s going to make it harder for Kun, that’s for sure. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chenle gazes at Ten with a strange look. There’s a lot of power coming from that small body and it’s more than a little threatening, even if the older spirit doesn’t mean it to seem that way. Ten smiles at Chenle and it’s mostly genuine, really, it is. Chenle experiences first-hand what the chills are anyway. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll take a look at this one.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before anyone can respond, Ten’s spiritual energy fans out and forms into sharp spikes which shoot towards Chenle and lodge in his chest. Jisung’s parents, unable to see it happen, are a little concerned at the appalled expressions on Mr. Qian and Jisung’s faces. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Personally, Chenle is not very impressed. It’s kind of embarrassing for another spirit to suddenly take such liberties without much warning. Besides that, Ten’s energy is frigid and burns icy hot in Chenle’s soul, prodding invasively around his innards. Jisung flinches as well, feeling the deep discomfort coming through the bond.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you-!” Jisung’s protest is cut off by Kun shaking his head. He’s been bonded to Ten for nearly a decade now, and if there’s something Kun has never doubted about his spirit companion, it’s his earnestness when it comes to helping others. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Kun was still kind of considering becoming an idol, Ten was the one who slapped him back to reality and put him on the track of researching spiritual energy and its applications. And now, the two of them are here, solving a medical mystery. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a short moment of investigation, Ten withdraws his energy back into his body, and hums thoughtfully, stroking his chin as if he had a beard. (Ten tried to have a beard a few years ago but Kun made him get rid of it).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I think it’s quite clear what’s been going on here - there’s been a little bit of a trade.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung’s parents and the older bonded pair have to leave after a while; a newly summoned spirit needs to be registered and given identification, especially if Chenle wants to take classes at Neo Academy himself. The adults are off to get that taken care of at the Academy office. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two boys, alone in the room, sit in stifling silence. Chenle doesn’t know enough Korean to hold a realistic conversation and Jisung is really struggling to talk at all, after the bomb that Ten just dropped. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s already shocking enough that they had accidentally stolen a bit of each other’s souls, but it’s even more shocking that their souls are now whole again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>To Chenle, who had never known his soul was incomplete in the first place, it’s surprising. To Jisung, whose whole life has been defined and caged by his malformed soul, it’s utterly incomprehensible. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Is he going to be able to finally eat as unhealthy as he wants? Can he stay up with Jeno past his strict bedtime? Will he be allowed to ditch his weekly visit to the hospital? He sits up, fire in his chest ablaze, eyes lit up with all the possibilities that will come from a fully functional body. Chenle watches passively as Jisung's aura turns brighter, having no idea what his handler is thinking about.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung’s head cocks to the side and he flings the covers off, before shuffling over to sit by Chenle’s bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm glad it's you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jisung barely lets the words get out of his mouth before he’s grabbing the spirit’s hand, holding it with both of his own. He’s never had the chance to make a lot of friends, but his parents always say to take the initiative. He forces himself to start talking. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m glad you’re here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It seems like Jisung is getting over his original doubts. Or, rather, he’s just ignoring them in the moment. But Chenle nods and grins, he agrees with Jisung, and those niggling worries in the back of his mind were always going to take time anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Jisung can regret his sudden openness, Chenle squeezes his hand and doesn’t let go.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The sun sets below the horizon, below the swell of the earth. Neo Academy’s barrier flickers electric blue, strong and impenetrable from years of experience and power. A shrouded figure presses its palm against the force field and draws back with a pained hiss, slinking back into the shadows. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this was kind of a transitional chapter so the next chapters are gonna pick up the pace ! and i think they'll be easier to write. </p>
<p>i'm glad i got to give chenle more screentime tho! lol</p>
<p>as always, thank you for reading and have a great day!!!! :DDD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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